


Proclamation

by DaughterOfKings



Category: The Shadow Campaigns - Django Wexler
Genre: Background Relationships, Family, Future Fic, Gen, Multi, Post-Series, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 13:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13388667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfKings/pseuds/DaughterOfKings
Summary: Post-TIB. Marcus has a message for Janus. He asks Winter to deliver it.





	Proclamation

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I wrote this fic to fulfill a request I got on Tumblr for a scene between Winter and Janus
> 
> 2) If you haven't read the last book, this will spoil a ton of stuff, so... you've been warned.

The river was broad and slow-moving, and bore a name that Winter couldn’t begin to pronounce. The southern sailors who’d agreed to give her passage had given up on trying to teach her, and instead concentrated on delivering her to her destination. She could see it now in the flat plain they were approaching, an encampment not unlike the ones she’d spent much of her adult life in. She couldn’t help a small sigh of relief at the sight of something familiar after so long.

She’d spent nearly five months at sea in foreign waters, and changed ships a half dozen times in order to reach the Southern Kingdoms. Then she’d spent two more months trying to find out what had happened to the gray-eyed man who’d led a revolution and walked away, and a week after that convincing the men he’d fought beside to take her to him.

It hadn’t been a journey she’d wanted to take. It had meant leaving Cyte, whose duties to the army couldn’t just be abandoned, and leaving her own duties, which were surely piling up in her absence. But she’d gone because Marcus had asked her to, and he was both her brother and her king.

She missed him more than she’d thought she would.

He didn’t have much spare time, but he could still be counted on to show up with a bottle of brandy and a sympathetic ear whenever the strangeness of her circumstances- her command, her survival, her happiness- got to be too much. She suspected there was a conspiracy between Cyte and Raesinia, and possibly Abby and Alex, as well, since he always knew when to come. But she thought it was good for him, too; she wasn't the only one who sometimes felt disoriented and overwhelmed, or afraid that it was all going to come crashing down.

She wondered how he was getting on without her.

Sudden shouts around her drew her back to the present. She shook her head to clear it as the sailors dropped anchor and the riverboat slowed to a stop. One of them threw a rope ladder over the side of the boat, and another gestured to her to indicate that he would help her descend it. Winter made a mental note to tell Raesinia that she managed to accept the help without so much as rolling her eyes.

She took a moment to adjust her balance once she stepped onto dry land, and then looked toward the encampment. There, emerging from a tent with a blue and crimson banner- an indication that its owner hadn’t given up his past entirely- was Janus bet Vhalnich.

Even at a distance, Winter could see that his exploits had restored much the muscle he’d lost to illness and the Beast. He was strong, and tan, and looked every inch a commander of men in spite of the simple clothes he wore. He’d stayed clean-shaven, but his hair had grown even longer than hers, kept off his face with the same sort of beaded leather band the men who’d led her to him favored. She almost laughed because she hadn’t expected him to be the type to “go native,” but the war had changed all of them; of course, it had changed him, too.

“Winter Ihernglass!” he said brightly as she approached. “It’s good to see you.”

Winter wasn’t sure how to address him, so she fell back on the default, “Sir.” She almost saluted, but caught herself and stuck her hand out instead.  
  
Janus shook it firmly. “I have missed a solid Vordanai handshake,” he said with feeling. “And I had hoped the queen might send you to check on my expedition.”  
  
“The king sent me,” Winter corrected to see how he would react. “Marcus.”

Janus looked unsurprised. “Even better,” he said. “I have a gift for him. Though, as a wedding present, however belated, it won’t do...” He turned abruptly and gestured for her to follow him back into the encampment.

The men there- and women, too, Winter realized- glanced at her as they passed, and some offered greetings to Janus, but otherwise they went about their work. “It’s southern custom not to speak to a guest until spoken to,” Janus explained. “It can be an inconvenience, but I find myself grateful for it at this time since it will keep us from being disturbed.”

He opened the flap of his tent so she could step inside and look around. A cot with a blue blanket neatly folded at its foot had been pushed against the far wall to make space for a table. That had been entirely covered in maps and other papers bearing Janus’ impeccable script. There were books, too, scattered in various places.

Janus offered her a chair, then fetched another for himself and dropped into it with a satisfied sigh. A moment later, he leaned forward, grabbed a leather-bound folio off the table, and offered it to her. “For Marcus,” he said. “I’ve endeavored to keep a record of this journey, though I must admit it is not as organized as I would like. Between geography, biology, and cultural studies alone, there is so much to say...”

“And you think Marcus will have time to understand it all?” Winter asked wryly.  
  
“Marcus is a better student than he thinks,” Janus answered. “And a king should have all possible knowledge of the world. I will not have mine go without if I can help it.”

Winter imagined how flustered Marcus would look if he could hear Janus call him his king, and very nearly laughed aloud at the thought. She caught Janus’ quick grin, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

He looked at her for a long moment, then said, “I’m sure you’re playing royal messenger quite willingly, but if you’d rather, you would be most welcome to accompany me on this little quest. Exploring is not so different from soldiering, which you've demonstrated your talent for already, and afterwards you could deliver a firsthand report to their majesties.”

It would have been tempting once- adventure in the uncharted wilds, working alongside Janus’ brilliance again- but Winter shook her head. “I have... a family now,” she said.

Janus raised his eyebrows, but before he could say anything, the words came tumbling out of her. Cyte, who was making plans for the future. Raesinia, who happily called her a sister. Marcus. Everything Sothe had told her about Ellie d’Ivoire.

“Well,” Janus said once she finished speaking. “It seems there are still things I did not see coming.” He looked delighted. “In light of that, I quite understand your desire to return home.”

“There’s more,” Winter said, reaching into her pack to pull out a small scroll. “I didn’t come to see about your expedition- but if you do find City of the Gods, Raesinia would appreciate you sending word. She and Marcus asked me to give this to you.”

Janus undid the scroll and read quickly. “‘An announcement of the birth of a daughter-’” he glanced up and flashed one of his lightning smiles. “So you have a niece, as well. My congratulations.”  
  
Winter smiled back. “Cyte is already spoiling her. But keep reading.”

Janus dutifully turned his attention back to the scroll. “‘The Queen and King hope the people of Vordan will share their joy, and welcome the Crown Princess-’” he broke off, looking closer to tears than Winter had ever seen him. “Mya,” he finally whispered. He swallowed hard and turned away to get his emotions in check.

Winter reached out awkwardly and squeezed his shoulder. “Marcus said to tell you that your name might have to fade into history, but hers doesn’t. He... hoped it would make you happy.”  
  
Janus reached up and clasped his hand over hers. “Tell him- thank him-” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head, unable to finish.

There was a time, Winter thought, when she wouldn’t have believed this man could ever be at a loss for words, but she reminded herself again that the war had changed all of them. And, anyway, he didn’t really need words now. She had a family, and she understood.

“I’ll tell him, sir,” she promised.


End file.
